


una historia todavía sin final

by 2davidbeckham3



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, because i have another fic based on one of julieta venegas' songs in the works, happy late valentines day!!!!, part of my song-fic collection actually but 'tis a gift and it works out, the not-a-date-date trope comes back with a vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10067498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2davidbeckham3/pseuds/2davidbeckham3
Summary: Andrés lies, even to himself, but his feelings are hard to disguise.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ahhhhrexa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahhhhrexa/gifts).



> A rarepair that I'm surprised I didn't write sooner /cough.
> 
> To note:  
> \- mystery side-pair (leave your opinions about who it could be in the comments below)  
> \- not-a-date date (a trope i didn't know i liked so much)  
> \- spot the star trek quote
> 
> [Listen to the title song, Andar Conmigo (MTV Unplugged 2008) – Julieta Venegas, here!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W1B8pYqTrC0)
> 
> also: ALEXA, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

_Hay tanto que quiero contarte_  
_hay tanto que quiero saber de ti_  
_ya podemos empezar poco a poco_  
_cuéntame, qué te trae por aquí_

* * *

Andrés doesn’t consider himself a particularly good liar.

 

Mostly everyone else disagrees.

 

Well, he doesn’t lie often, but if he doesn’t really mean the _You almost had it_ or _Of course we can come back from this_ , not a lot of people seem to notice. Andrés thinks it’s mostly because people are listening to what they want to hear. Victor told him that it’s mostly because people don’t expect him to lie.

 

_“Just look at you.” Victor said once. Then he started laughing._

_“Shut up. You’re lying.” Andrés laughed too, but he still believed him._

Andrés doesn’t like lying. He hates feeling his face heat up uncomfortably, hates how his mouth feels when he has to say the words – like rubber, stretching in all of the wrong places – and hates how the words feel when they tumble out of his mouth like sharp shards of glass that cut everyone involved.

 

Still, there’s some people Andrés can never lie to. Victor knows him too well and- well, Andrés has never lied to Victor.

 

(It doesn’t mean that he hasn’t tried.

 

He can count how many times he’s lied to Victor on one hand. It's the same number of times Victor's never believed him.)

 

For the longest time, the only person on that list was Victor, but then when Xavi could pass to Andrés without looking and it changed.

 

(Andrés has lied to Xavi.

 

He’s not as good as Victor at figuring out when Andrés does try to lie to him, but he’s getting there.)

 

What Andrés has a hard time taking into consideration, is the amount of times that he’s lied to himself and tried to make everyone believe it.

 

“—You had to be there, Victor, because then Luis – Luis Enrique, I mean – said—”

 

 _“Andrés,”_ Victor interjected, his tone teasing. _“Do you have a crush on Lucho? I’ve heard you talk more about Luis Enrique, recently, than I’ve heard about him in my whole life – and I played with him.”_

“No, I don’t!” Andrés exclaimed, certain.

 

Except, the words come out all wrong, too high-pitched, garbled, crashing together as Andrés tried to force them out.

 

Thankfully, there was a commotion somewhere on Victor’s side of the line that drew his attention away from Andrés’ apparent lie. _“What the— Shit, I’ll call you back, okay? Fuck.”_  
  
Andrés’ farewell gets lost amongst another string of profanities, but it’s a blessing in disguise. It gave him time to think.

 

He doesn’t have a crush on his coach, that’d just be… wrong.

 

Well, Andrés’ heart got all fluttery back in the day, but that was just because Lucho was very considerate with how he introduced him to the rest of the team. And with the goals Lucho scored sometimes, whose hearts wouldn’t skip a beat?

 

Andrés is older now. He’s moved past the stage of starry-eyed crushes, and knows the consequences of even just hooking up with a teammate can be. It’s just nostalgia that’s making him feel this way.

 

Still, it can’t be. Nostalgia is what he felt kicking a ball around with Puyi the last time they got together. When he’s with Lucho— Well—

 

Andrés dragged his hand down his face, resisting the urge to groan.

 

“Aw, hell.”

 

 

*

 

 

Andrés decided to sit next to Leo during lunch. Neymar and Suarez were a bit confused – especially since they couldn’t fight over who got to sit next to Leo – but they happily welcomed Andrés to their table. Only Leo gave Andrés a concerned look right after he sat down, but didn’t push it; he was happy to relive the old times, even if their usual squad was missing a few.

 

Still, he usually sat next to Masche and others close to the training staff, even sharing a table with them when he could, therefore, he wasn’t surprised when Lucho approached him when their meal was ending. Unsurprised? Yes. Dreading it? Absolutely.

 

“Are you okay?” He asked, concerned. It looked like he had been doing work during lunch, clipboard hanging loosely from his side. Lucho’s ever-present sunglasses were perched on top of his head, for once, giving Andrés a complete view of his worried expression. Andrés wondered absentmindedly how Lucho had managed to avoid an unsightly sunglass tan. Changing his sunglasses ever few sessions probably helped.

 

“I’m fine.” That was true; there were varying definitions for fine.

 

Lucho quirked a brow, obviously skeptical, but let it slide. “I missed you, today.”

 

“C’mon, Lucho.” Andrés forced a grin, scratching at the back of his neck in a would-be casual gesture that belied his nervousness. “You see me all the time.”

 

Lucho shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I like to share.” He confessed with a wry smile, tucking his clipboard under his arm to reach over to and grab Andrés’ bicep, punctuating his statement with a teasing squeeze. “I like having you around.”

 

“Ah, well,” Andrés laughed, feeling his face heat up in a tell-tale blush. “Next time,” he offered, voice cracking at the last syllable. It wasn’t a lie, just a purposefully vague statement. Next time he would be sitting with Leo again. Maybe Geri.

 

Lucho barked out a laugh then nodded. “See you next, time, then.”

 

“We’ll see,” Andrés replied making Lucho’s expression turn slightly apologetic.

 

“Or the one after that,” Lucho amended, brows furrowing, obviously thinking that he did something wrong.

 

If Andrés’ heart kept on pounding the way it was, it probably wouldn’t be that time, either, but he still nodded. “Maybe,” he agreed, heartbeat stuttering at the sight of Lucho’s responding grin.

 

“Maybe.”

 

And, with another concerned glance and a shake of his head, Lucho turned on his heel, presumably going to go look for the rest of his staff.

 

Leo managed to catch back up with Andrés before they made their way back out to the pitch. “Is there anything you wanna talk about, Andrés?”

 

At least Leo tried to sound nonchalant, but it was obvious that the question was far from it.

 

He knew.

 

“No, why would I?” Came Andrés’ sharp, challenging response. How long had Leo known?

 

Leo just gave Andrés a solemn stare. “I know what it’s like, that’s all.”

 

He knew too much, but—

 

How did Leo know how it felt?

 

Well, that was an easy answer.

 

Andrés ducked his head in remorse. “Then you know I have nothing to say to you,” he conceded in a small voice. How could he admit that today’s short interaction with Lucho felt like every other, except for the fact that, now, he was aware of every little thing? How could he admit that he likely had a crush on their coach before he led them to their most recent treble? How could he—

 

Andrés heard Leo sigh, but was taken by surprise when he felt Leo drape his arms across his shoulders in a spontaneous, yet, slightly-awkward hug that stopped Andrés in his tracks. “You can always talk to me, Andrés.”

 

“I’m sorry, Leo.”

 

“I’m sorry, too, Andrés.”

 

 

*

 

 

Still, it seems like Leo’s made the best of his own situation and was using it to his advantage. A small smile, with a hint of mischievousness that he would never own up to. Yeah, he got Andrés good.

 

Andrés never said he didn’t whine.

 

“I can’t believe you’re putting me through this, Leo.”

 

“It’s for your own good, Andrés,” Leo shrugged, still too happy at Andrés’ own discomfort. “It’s Busi’s fault too, you know.”

 

“Yeah, but he has legitimate reasons.” Even if those reasons are the fact that he can’t move two feet away from the bathroom after eating some ice cream that broke his carefully planned diet. “And Masche’s doing that family thing. It’s on you, really.”

 

Leo opened his mouth to refute Andrés’ statement, but was interrupted by a peculiar ringtone.

 

Andrés pursed his lips to ward off the teasing grin that threatened to break across his face, “I forgot about that sixth sense of his.” Leo, of course, didn’t hear him. He was too busy fumbling around his pockets trying to find his cellphone before it went to voicemail.

 

“It’s just dinner, Andrés,” Came Leo’s short reply before he greeted the person on the other end of the line.

 

“Yeah, but what’s the point in having a captain’s meeting with Lucho when I’m the only captain that’s going to show up?”

 

Leo mouthed his reply back to Andrés and it was surprisingly easy to figure out what he said, even through his goofy smile that made him look like the kid Andrés always saw hanging around Geri.

 

“It’s not a date,” Andrés called back hotly, only to be met by Leo’s loud laugh.

 

It couldn’t be a date.

                                                                                          

Andrés half hoped that was a lie. 

_“He agrees with me, you know.”_

 

Andrés only allowed himself a few short moments of surprise at the unexpected blessing while he came up with an appropriate response, _“Tell him to quit wasting his minutes!”_

*

 

It felt like a date.

 

There aren’t many places the pair could go in Barcelona where they wouldn’t be spotted, so it seemed like Lucho opted for comfort rather than efficiency.

 

There weren’t any prices on the menu and Andrés had the sneaking feeling that Lucho paid some sort of deposit for their very private table.

 

“You clean-up nicely,” Andrés teased, unable to hide his grin at seeing Lucho reach up to loosen his tie immediately after their waiter left though not before pouring them some wine.

 

Lucho rolled his eyes then smirked. “I picked this tie out just for you.”

 

Sadly, Andrés picked that exact moment to take a sip of wine. He choked. “I’m, uh,” he rasped, between coughs “very thankful.” Andrés cleared his throat, “Gray is different, I like it. Brings out your eyes.” Speaking of, Andrés hoped his own very watery eyes weren’t too obvious.

 

“Charmer,” Lucho chuckled. “You alright though?”

 

Andrés nodded, “Perfect.” Embarrassed, actually. The correlation between his own misgivings and Lucho’s presence must have been obvious, by now. He nearly face-planted during training after getting distracted by Lucho taking off his shirt mid training after Geri poured a whole bottle of Gatorade over him; Andrés still has a bruise from tripping over the cooler. Leo just laughed and, thankfully, Masche didn’t seem to notice.

 

“Good.” Oddly enough, it was Lucho’s turn to look embarrassed. He coughed before reaching over to scratch the back of his neck. “Honestly, though. I hope you don’t mind the restaurant.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Andrés agreed eagerly, maybe a touch too enthusiastically. He really didn't mind, though. The wine, thus far, was spectacular. And it was kind of nice having Lucho to himself in a non profesional setting.

 

Lucho’s shoulders seemed to visibly drop at Andrés’ wholehearted response. “It’s nice. Intimate really. Kind of—” he licked his lips. “Kind of like a date,” Lucho concluded with a sly grin.

 

 

*

 

 

It wasn’t a date.

 

Nothing happened that would make their official meeting skew closer towards a romantic outing.

 

Sure, conversation flowed easily, but that was mostly because their food portions were so small. That’s what they got for trying out the experimental menu.

 

They didn’t hold hands.

 

Yes, Lucho treated Andrés to some ice cream. _Just between you and me,_ but that was to be expected after such a small meal. He was just looking out for his captain after all.

 

There was no kiss at the end.

 

 

*

 

 

_This was fun._

_It was, wasn’t it?_

_We should do it again._

_You pick out the restaurant, next time._

 

 

*

 

 

Andrés hit the ground with a thud. “ _Luis Enrique!_ ” He laughed, rolling onto his side to glare at the man in question, who was now juggling the ball.

 

“C’mon, Andrés, This is training. Don’t make me regret desert.”

 

Still chuckling to himself, Andrés managed to easily drag himself up tp a sitting position and began to wipe the small dried up grass blades from his joggers. “Bother the other captains, they stood us up, you know.”

 

“Why do you think I’ve got them running five extra laps.”

 

_“Evil.”_

 

 

*

 

 

“I can’t with you two.” Puyol huffed, exasperatedly.

 

“—And I said—wait what?” Andrés spluttered, taken aback at Puyol’s annoyed expression, not to mention the fact that he was utterly confused at Puyol’s vague interruption. “What are you talking about?”

 

“I should’ve known by the messages that you’re both hopeless.”

 

“ _Who_ are you talking about?”

 

“You like Lucho,” Came Puyol’s matter-of-fact reply. He ignored Andrés’ indignant _No, I don’t!_ and continued with “Lucho likes you. And neither of you have acted on it.”

 

“I don’t—He doesn’t—” He should’ve been more shocked at Puyol’s admission that Lucho possibly liked him back, but Andrés had a feeling that he secretly knew for weeks. He had been brushing off Lucho’s kind gestures as his own wishful thinking, but it seemed like he hadn’t been far off the mark. Not to mention the fact that it explained the constant smug smiles that Leo kept on throwing in his direction. He and Lucho had always been friends, obviously not close friends, but friends, notheless. Still, Andrés sighed, too tired to lie. ”You haven’t told him, have you?”

 

“God, no. This isn’t my problem.”

 

“We, um,” Andrés cleared his throat, trying to wrap his head around their absurd situation. It was ridiculous and totally impossible. “We can’t do anything about it, though.”

 

“When has that stopped anyone?”

 

Andrés made a small noise of agreement which Puyol took as encouragement to continue.

 

“Besides, do it for me. I love you two, but I really can’t with his messages anymore.”

 

“Wait, He talks to you about me?”

“No,” Puyi scoffed, but his reply came too quickly, his tone to deep to be casual.

“Puyi!” Andrés exclaimed, but he could barely keep himself from laughing. “You’re such a bad liar!”

 

_“I’m telling the truth!”_

*

 

 

It seemed like Puyol was telling the truth, or had at least given Lucho a similar speech, if his coach’s reserved mood the next training had anything to do with it.

 

Andrés jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He shouldn’t have been surprised, Neymar did cut himself off mid-sentence. “Andrés, we need to talk. Can you stay after training?”

 

“Of course.” He didn’t want to look over his shoulder, Lucho’s tone was a bit too serious for is liking, not to mention the fact that Ney and Suarez’s wide-eyed looks weren’t really helping.

 

Lucho squeezed his shoulder in place of a goodbye.

 

“A table for four, next time?”

 

Andrés snorted, “Yeah, sure, Leo. If you can get everyone on board with the idea.”

 

Thankfully, training continued without a hitch. Even Lucho flashed Andrés a small smile after a particularly good pass. At least that hadn’t changed.

 

 

*

 

 

They walked in silence to Lucho’s office, the only sound that broke though the tense air was the scrape of Andrés’ chair when he sat down. Andrés decided to speak up, tired of flinching every time Lucho flipped through his notepad. “Did Puyi tell you?”

 

“Carles tells me a lot of things,” Lucho responded, deliberately vague, avoiding Andrés’ gaze by staring intently at this training’s notes.

 

“It’s why you asked me to stay, right?” Andrés could feel the easy lie bubbling behind his lips, _It’s just a misunderstanding_ , he could say. _Don’t worry, Lucho. It’s nothing._ Except it wasn’t.

 

Andrés leaned forward to place his hand on top of Lucho. He could feel his face heating up, the words didn’t want to come out, heavy on the back of the tongue. “It’s simple,” Andrés began, priding himself in not flinching when Lucho finally met his gaze, obviously surprised. “I like you. You like me, right. Nothing has to change. Well—” Andrés cleared his throat. “Not unless you want it to,” he concluded in a rush.

 

Lucho flipped his hand to intertwine his fingers with Andrés’.

 

“I want it to.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _Hay tantos caminos por andar..._  
_dime si tú quiseras andar conmigo  
_ _cuéntame si quisieras andar conmigo_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> too much dialogue about feelings and not enough feelings but what can you do. also feel like the intro is to long but still ~~(lucho isnt leaving don't talk to me)~~
> 
> The phrase Andar Conmigo is a little hard to translate in this context because "andar" means walk, but the way she uses it in the song, it's kinda like "come with me." Also, in the context of the song, she kinda uses like a euphemism, if you don't mind the expression, for "go out with me."
> 
>  **Translations:**  
>  _Hay tanto que quiero contarte // hay tanto que quiero saber de ti // ya podemos empezar poco a poco // cuéntame, qué te trae por aquí_  
>  There's so many things I want to tell you // there's so much I want to know about you // we can start little by little // tell me, what brings you around here.
> 
>  _Hay tantos caminos por andar... // dime si tú quiseras andar conmigo // cuéntame si quisieras andar conmigo_  
>  There are so many paths to walk // tell me if you would like to walk with me // tell me if you would like to come with me


End file.
